Fallen
by Rydia Asuka
Summary: It was supposed to be easy. Sorey would sleep for a few centuries, then wake up and they could go back to normal. Not this, though. Anything but this... In which Sorey awakens to discover he has completely lost the ability to communicate with seraphim.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer** : I do not own Tales of Zestiria. All affiliated characters and settings are the property of Namco-Bandai. No copyright infringement is intended; no profit is being made.

* * *

Mikleo had a nightmare. Actually, to call it a simple nightmare was a gross injustice. It was a _reoccurring_ nightmare that plagued him for the entire three hundred seventy-eight years that Sorey was asleep for. The nightmare was of Sorey finally, finally waking up...and not remembering him.

The worst part of it all was that it was entirely plausible. It was not uncommon for humans being reborn as seraphim to forget their past lives, and, if that happened to Sorey...

Of course, there was also the possibility that Sorey would not be reborn, and Mikleo would lose him all over again. That was the subject of an entirely different series of nightmares. Suffice it to say, sleeping was not his favourite pastime while he waited for Sorey to awaken.

The worst part, however, was that the reality, when it came, was so, so much worse.

"Mikleo! Mikleo, where are you! Where are you...?"

As soon as he had felt Maotelus' power return, Mikleo had rushed to Camlann. Luckily, he had been staying in Elysia at the time, so it had only been a short trip to the fallen town.

He had found Sorey wandering intently around the area, brow slightly furrowed as he examined everything. Mikleo had, unsurprisingly, been the first to arrive. Joyful, he had called out to Sorey...to nothing. No looking up, so response, no smiles or laughter or joyful calling of his name.

He watched, heartbroken, as Sorey wandered, lost and alone.

"Where are they...?"

Sorey could not see seraphim any longer, Mikleo was sure of it. Instead of being reborn as a seraph, saving Maotelus had completely burned away his resonance. Never in his life had Mikleo felt so helpless. So lost. So utterly _useless._

He sat, and watched, and cried, calling Sorey's name until he was hoarse and breathless. Nothing. Not so much as the hint of a glance in his direction...

Sorey eventually reached a decision, it seemed, and he set off for the ruins. For Elysia.

Mikleo dried his cheeks and followed. There was nothing he could do to help Sorey. He followed in silence, chest aching more and more every time Sorey stopped to call...for him. Sometimes he called for Lailah, Edna, and Zaveid, even Rose, once, but by far the person he called for most was Mikleo. By the time they made it out of the ruins, Mikleo was a wreck.

Mikleo ran ahead as they headed for Elysia. He needed to let the others know what had happened. Sorey would certainly figure out what had happened when he saw the town, up kept but empty, and when Sorey realised...

Zaveid met him on the way there.

"Mikky-boy! Where's our lovely shepherd? Thought you'd be with him by now."

"...Zaveid, I—he—" he cut off with a click of the teeth, taking a deep breath.

"Whoa, whoa, you've been running? Is he okay? Do you need help?"

Mikleo shook his head, stubbornly closing his eyes to fight still more tears. "No, he...he's okay, I think. He just...Zaveid, he can't see me..."

"He...what?"

"He's lost his resonance."

"You're serious—of course you are. You wouldn't joke about this shit. Damn. Anything I can do?"

"Elysia. Go to Elysia and warn them he's coming." Damn, he wished there were humans in Elysia, visiting or _something_...

"You got it. What about you?"

"I'm going back to him," he said sharply, turning away and running back towards Sorey.

* * *

Sorey was...he didn't know, exactly, but scared topped the list. Somehow, he had expected all of his friends to be there when he emerged from his long sleep. Instead...nothing. No Mikleo, no Lailah, no _anyone_.

With each step back towards home, he felt the cold weight of fear clamp down harder on his gut. What if he hadn't gotten them out safely? What if he was the only one _left_? What other possible explanation could there be that _Mikleo_ hadn't been there?

If Mikleo was dead...

No. He was probably just far away. He'd go to Elysia, where he would find a note, or something, and he'd either go to his friend, or wait for him. Everything would be fine. It would be. It had to be.

He had left Camlaan fairly early in the day, and did not arrive in Elysia until sundown. In the fading light, he could see that the village was much as he had left it. Cozy, stone huts dotted the hillside, pure water trickled into the pond near Gramps' old hut—and _Gramps_ , but that was a concern for later; a concern for alone in his room with Mikleo and tight hugs and so many tears, so he batted it down to be examined later. Right now, he just had to find someone.

That was the one thing that had changed; the green was empty. He saw no faces, either familiar or unfamiliar, only...silence.

"Mikleo! Kyme! Bethany! Is there anyone here? Mikleo! Mikleo..."

* * *

Zaveid pressed a hand to Mikleo's shoulder, trying to reassure the younger seraph as he shifted on the spot, violet eyes welling up with unshed tears.

"Sorey... Sorey!"

Zaveid tightened his grip, holding Mikleo back and, hopefully, grounding him a little. The scene was one of the most heartbreaking he had _ever_ witnessed, and he had to admit, it choked him up a bit. These two were made to be together. This was, quite frankly, a punishment that neither deserved.

"C'mon, Mik, we came up with a plan," he said, gesturing to the others around him.

"What...what plan?" the water seraph asked, his voice as wet as his artes.

"Most everything here, like paper and books, is infused with seraphic artes, so he can't see it, but not the natural things. Rocks, plants..."

"So...?"

"Get a torch, Mikky, and do the honours." Anything to keep Mikleo distracted.

He sent Zaveid a wary glance, but quickly did as told, hurrying into a nearby house to get a lantern—one that had pointedly _not_ been lit with an arte. When Mikleo emerged, Sorey turned towards the light, a soft gasp escaping him.

"Lai—" the human trailed off as he noticed that...nobody was carrying the fire, at least to his eyes. Damn, it really seemed like Mikleo was right, Sorey couldn't see seraphim at all. It was downright unfair.

Sorey followed the light, brow furrowed, and Elysia followed him in a silent procession. They rounded the pond, to the largest unoccupied area on the hillside, where a message had been written in sticks and rocks.

 _We're here, Sorey. Welcome home._

Kyme had to physically grab Mikleo and hold him back at the agonised cry that escaped Sorey. The brunet's eyes were wide as he spun in the circle, eyes passing sightlessly over the assembled seraphim.

"Are...you all—Mikleo! Is Mikleo—?"

The seraph in question squirmed free and ran forward, light held high. He stopped just in front of Sorey.

"Mik...leo?" A tentative hand came out, reaching for the air...and passing through it. Mikleo, in turn, reached out and cupped Sorey's cheek. Well, he tried to, anyway.

Definitely one of the saddest things Zaveid had ever seen.

* * *

Sorey sat, numb, on his bed in Elysia. He knew Mikleo was with him, now, but he could not see him, hear him, feel him... He could not imagine a worse hell than this.

"The last time this happened, it only lasted a little while," he said, with far more optimism than he felt. "I'm sure it'll come back." If Mikleo replied, he would never know it.

The door opened, and his head came up...to nothing. One of the chairs at the table shifted, as though someone had stood—who, he had no idea. They were here. His friends were here. That would have to be enough.

He told himself that, and told himself that, and told himself that...

When he laid down that night to sleep, he made room for Mikleo and cried.

"I love you, Mikleo," he said softly. "I love you."

* * *

Edna and Lailah had arrived overnight, meaning all four of them were here...uselessly standing around. Well, the others stood around, but Mikleo climbed into bed, pressing close to his friend. Or, as close as one could get when you couldn't actually touch, anyway.

He laid there all night, staying close but hating the way they passed through one another. He wanted to touch him. Hold him. Kiss him. It was downright painful.

How was it fair that Sorey awoke to a world where seeing seraphim was commonplace, but he himself could no longer see them? The irony of it made him sick.

The following morning, Sorey arose, looking tired but determined. Ushering the others out so Sorey could change, he sat on the bed while Sorey cleaned himself up.

"Mikleo, are you there—of course you are. I think I'm going to go into town. Ladylake, for now. I need to know what the world is like." All the books Mikleo had written for him were magically preserved, so he couldn't read them. "Will you come with me?"

Picking up Sorey's shepherd glove, he carried it to him, pressing it into his hand and drawing a smile from Sorey. "I'll take that as a yes." Of course it was.

They set out that morning, with Sorey shouting farewells to the village, and the villagers watching anxiously. They loved Sorey so much. Maybe...maybe they could fix this. Or maybe it was temporary, like Sorey had said.

Whatever the case, time would tell. For better or for worse.

* * *

"He looks so sad..." Lailah remarked.

"Not as sad as Meebo."

"Leave him alone, Edna," Lailah scolded. "He had every right to be upset."

"He looks like his favourite toy got buried under a landslide," the earth seraph quipped, clearly annoyed.

"Not a toy. Just his heart," Zaveid said.

Growling, Mikleo stormed ahead, moving closer to Sorey. That didn't matter. None of it did. Sorey was what mattered. Let the others joke and gossip. He. Did. Not. Care.

"Edna, Zaveid...leave him alone," Lailah scolded again from behind him. "Mikleo and Sorey are really hurting right now."

Mikleo stuck to Sorey's side and tuned the others out.

Sorey talked a lot on the trip, likely trying to fill the void left in his life, and Mikleo listened. He wished with all of his heart that he could reply.

Their first encounter with humans came just days after they left the forest. Humans were more populous than they had ever been, and their settlements had grown and expanded. Sorey gazed with wide eyes upon the village of Kayle.

"This is new..."

Not that new, but Mikleo had no way of telling him that. All he could do was walk at his side and try, try, _try_ to get his feelings through to Sorey.

The other seraphim politely excused themselves from the company a ways from the village. They were better known than Mikleo, and ran the risk of being recognised—particularly Lailah, who had remained in the limelight all this time. They all agreed that it was safest to have the recognisable faces kept away.

They were, after all, all working with the new shepherds. All save Mikleo, anyway, who kept largely to himself in the bowels of the world.

They entered the village, and the first thing Sorey had to deal with was the language. Oh, everyone still spoke the same language that had nearly four hundred years ago, but languages changed, and this was no exception. New colloquialisms and phrases left poor Sorey behind, as well as the changed fashion sense, mannerisms, styles, devices... Thankfully, it was all manageable, it just felt different.

In short: it was the same world, but it was a different _world_.

Sorey had little money, especially not when one accounted for inflation, and the fast-paced life in Kayle left him upset and uncertain, no matter how hard he was trying to hide it. Mikleo stayed close, however, and eventually Sorey found and inn.

"Uh, can I get a room, please?" Sorey asked tentatively.

"For two?" the innkeeper, a heavyset woman in her middle years, asked, gaze travelling to Mikleo, then back to Sorey.

"Uh, no. One bed is fine."

"...alright. Does your seraph friend at least want a meal?"

Sorey's eyes grew huge, and Mikleo cringed. He wished he could have told him...

"Y-you can see him?"

The pretty woman frowned. "Of course—wait, can you _not_ see seraphim? Wow. Didn't think there was anything without that blessing..."

"Enough," Mikleo said sharply, brow furrowed in anger. He could easily see the tension in Sorey's body. "There's more to this than you know, and you will leave him alone."

The woman stared for a moment, then bowed her head. "My apologises, Sir Seraph." She reached for a key. "Second room on the lef—"

"Wait!" Sorey called, fists clenched. "Can you...tell me what he looks like? The seraph?"

The woman blinked at the odd request. "I...certainly. He's a rather handsome fella, to be sure. Little shorter than yourself, long, silver-blue hair, the prettiest violet eyes. Regal dresser, too—"

"Thank you, that's enough," he said, hoarse.

"Want me to ask his name?"

"I know it," Sorey said softly. "Both of them, actually." Taking the key, he headed for the back.

Hesitating only a moment, Mikleo nodded once to the lady, then followed.

Sorey cried himself to sleep again that night, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Late in the night, he rose. Sorey had finally fallen asleep, so Mikleo took the chance to slip out, heading down to the common room. A few patrons still frequented it at this hour, and he took a seat in the far corner, away from the others. Despite his hiding place, it was not long until the owner found him.

"Need a drink, pumpkin?" He glanced up at her smiling face, her plump cheeks dimpled prettily and green eyes sparkling at him. She looked altogether motherly. "Not to butt in, but you look like you could use one."

Mikleo shrugged. "I just...needed some company."

"Mhm, that's why you're sitting over here, by yourself?"

He sighed, shrugging. "I don't know," he admitted.

"Just wanted to be where people can see ya?—hit the nail on the head, didn't I?" she said, noting how he flinched. "How'd a handsome fella like you come to be travelling with an Unblessed."

"Don't call him that!" he snapped. She looked taken aback by his animosity, but Mikleo didn't care. Nobody understood Sorey like he did! Nobody knew how much he was _suffering_ because of this!

"Alright, alright... So how'd you two wind up together, anyway?"

"We were always together," he muttered, turning to stare out the window.

"But...he can't see you."

"That's not any of your business," he said, a little sharper than he meant to.

"Anythin' I can do for you?" she asked after a moment, concern clear in her eyes.

"...think you could translate for me?" he asked on a whim. She seemed nice enough, and she was willing to deal with his temper.

"For your human friend? I think I could manage that, sweetie."

Mikleo fought an annoyed eye twitch. "I need one other thing, first."

"Hm?"

"Swear, on the name of The Shepherd, that no part of the ensuing conversation will ever leave your lips. I need total confidentiality." He knew he was asking too much, and that she was likely to refuse, but it had to be said.

"...you're serious about this?"

"Yes."

"In the name of The Shepherd, huh? You aren't messing around."

"I just said I was serious. Swear in his name, or—"

"Okay. I swear by the name of Shepherd Sorey of Elysia that I won't breath a word to anyone."

And what would Sorey say, to know he was something of a religious figure? Mikleo wished he could tell him. Needed to tell him.

"Come with me," he said, rising. They walked in silence to Sorey's room, and Mikleo used the key to let them in.

"Uh...he's asleep. We should wait."

"No, now," Mikleo said, moving closer to Sorey. "Can you wake him up? He..." _can't hear me_.

She hesitated, but finally stepped closer. "Uh, excu—" her hand brushed Sorey's shoulder ever so lightly, and he bolted awake, sitting up, "—me."

He eyed her, then plastered a smile on his face. "Sorry, I, uh...dozed off?"

Mikleo sighed. Typical Sorey.

"Actually, your seraph friend asked me to wake you. He wants to talk to you."

"Mikleo—?"

"Tell him I'm here," he said softly, stepping forward and sitting on the bed.

"He's right next to you."

"Is he—? Which side?"

"Your left."

Sorey turned to face him, smiling gently. "Mikleo...

"Thank you, ma'am," Sorey said softly, not looking away. Mikleo fought to stay composed under that gaze.

"Call me Lillian."

"Thank you, Lillian. You can call me Sorey."

She froze, then frowned. "Wait...Mikleo?" She turned to the seraph. "Is this some kind of a joke?"

"It is not." Mikleo said, meeting her gaze steadily.

"So, what, he's named after the hero? What about you?"

"Named after—what does she mean, Mikleo?"

"You're, uh, sorta famous, Sorey," he said softly. The woman hesitated a moment before telling Sorey.

"Famous? How?"

"You went to sleep for almost four hundred years," he said softly, "and saved the continent at the same time. People revere that..."

"Really? That's...actually kinda cool! I mean, I don't really want all that attention and stuff, but it's pretty cool to see how what we did is affecting everyone."

"You did well," he said softly, ignoring Lillian's stares. "Not us, you."

"No, Mikleo! We did it as a team. You, me, Rose, Lailah. All of us."

"None of us sacrificed hundreds of years," he said softly.

"But did I succeed?" Sorey asked, after Lillian spoke.

"Isn't it obvious? Of course you did. That's why you're awake."

"And...everyone else?"

"Outside town. Lailah thought it would be best if they weren't recognised. I can get away with it because I, uh, spent the past few centuries in ruins, not seeing anyone."

"So...everyone's there?"

"Everyone. Even Edna." Well, except the humans.

"You two still get along well?" Sorey asked cheekily.

Lillian coughed. "He's...just grumbling."

Sorey laughed honestly. "That sounds about right. You haven't changed at all, _Meebo_."

"...I wish that were true."

"Oh, right! Lillian said you'd grown out your hair! I wish I could see it. And that you're taller!"

"No height jokes!"

Sorey laughed honestly.

Mikleo found himself smiling to himself after a moment. "Sorey...I missed you," he muttered. "So much."

"I'm back now. And we'll figure this out. My resonance can be fixed, I'm sure of it."

"Maybe we can ask Maotelus. He does sort of owe us one," he said, smirking.

"Even if he can't fix it, he might be able to point us in the right direction. Maybe there's some ruin with the answer, too. We can go looking!"

"Anything you want, Sorey." Anything.

"Can I interrupt—are you two _really_...?"

"We are," Mikleo assured, "which is why I took your oath of silence."

"Yes, I understand." Her eyes screamed of doubt, however.

"Can you...tell me about everything that I've missed?" Sorey finally asked.

Mikleo nodded, then remembered himself. "Anything you want to know," he said, settling down to get comfortable.

They spoke long into the night, at some point fetching drinks. The innkeeper humoured them the whole time, seeming more fascinated than annoyed by the long night. Mikleo talked and talked, sharing every story he could think of with Sorey, who listened, enraptured. Eventually, they tapered off, Sorey yawning and rubbing his eyes.

"I wish I could hold you again," a tired Sorey muttered, rolling to face the direction Mikleo was sitting in.

"I'm still here."

"I know, but I want to touch you," he muttered. "I want to kiss you."

Mikleo cleared his throat awkwardly. "Sorey..."

"I love you."

Composing himself, Mikleo reached out, desperate to touch him, and was met with only disappointment. "I love you, too."

Lillian, a faint blush on her own cheeks, stood. "I should head off. I have an inn to open soon." Her son and husband had handled things overnight. "I'd like some sleep, first."

"Uh, oh, yes. Thank you, Lillian. I really appreciate this."

She smiled. "It's the least I could do to pay you back. Get some rest, Shepherd. You too, Seraph."

Mikleo nodded. "Thank you, Lillian. And please, recall your oath."

"I won't forget," she promised, stepping to the door, and then disappearing out it.

For the rest of the morning, Mikleo kept watch while Sorey slept. Without help, that was all he could do.

At least this time, Sorey's brow line was relaxed.

* * *

Ladylake was bigger than Sorey remembered it. He had shed his shepherd's cloak in Kayle, using the last of his limited funds to purchase a new outfit and some travel rations. Lillian hadn't charged him, which helped, but he was still flat broke, now. That aside, the seamstress had given him a very strange look when he had payed her. He had no idea why.

Dressed in his new, modern clothing, Sorey wandered the town. His first destination was the sanctuary, of course, but he took the long way there, circling the city and admiring the sights.

More people bustled in the streets, and there was just... _more_ to the city than Sorey remembered. More buildings, more traffic, more shops and hawkers... And more seraphim. In many places, he could see shopkeepers chatting with the air. He knew seraphim had to be there, and...and his heart seized. He wanted to see them and speak to them, too.

They had built this world, and it was not for him. The thought made him feel sick. What if his resonance never came back? He could imagine no worse life than a life without Mikleo.

"...Luzrov Ruley," he murmured. Nothing happened. Nothing ever happened.

Collecting himself, he took a deep breath and strode on. No point dwelling. Dwelling bred malevolence, and malevolence was the last thing he needed. He would be better than that.

He rounded a street, into the courtyard before the sanctuary, and stopped dead, looking up. A massive statue had been erected...of him. The statue's eyes stared out over the city protectively, its right hand resting on the pommel of its sword, and gloved hand upraised in a triumphant fist.

He approached the base, reading the inscription there with a furrowed brow.

 _Shepherd Sorey  
May his exploits never be forgotten_

 _Laid by Her Majesty Alisha Diphda and His Majesty Sergei Strelker_  
 _Dedicated by Squire Rose_  
 _Blessed by Seraph Lailah, the Lady of the Lake_

Circling the statue, he found detailed carvings of each of his friends, their names carved underneath. Dezel and Rose on the first plaque, and Edna and Zaveid on the second. On the final, Lailah and...Mikleo. He paused to run his fingers over the engraving of his friend.

"It doesn't do you justice." He paused, but of course there was no response.

Straightening, he turned and walked away. A statue, of him. Who would ever have thought it?

Lailah's blade was gone, still, he noted as he entered the sanctuary. He stepped forward, and a moment later, a young man ran forward.

"Lailah! You're back! Zaveid, Enda, you're here too—and is that—? Are you Mikleo?"

With each name, Sorey's chest tightened more, and at the last, he was forced to turn away, not wanting to see his... _successor's_ happy reunion with the friends he could no longer see.

"And who are you?" The teen was at his side anyway, looking up. "I'm Nate!"

Before Sorey could reply, Nate turned away, dark ponytail swinging. "...wait, seriously?" His head swung around again. "You're Sorey? Really? That's...really cool! We can go travelling together! I bet you can give me some pointers."

Sorey looked away, staring blankly at the altar. Taking a deep breath, he plastered on a smile and turned to Nate.

"Sure! I mean, I can't help you with armatising and stuff," he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "but I can help with the rest! If Mikleo could stand sparring with me, maybe you can too," he joked.

Nate turned away for a moment, then frowned. "You want me to? But why?" A pause. "Wait...seriously? But he's a shepherd! He's _The_ Shepherd!" Nate's brow furrowed further. "Really? That...that's terrible. Okay, I'll tell him.

"Sorey, Mikleo says you're a terrible sparring partner."

"Mikleo," he began calmly, "I'm not the one who's too short."

"What? He's not short..." Nate chimed in.

Sorey paused, looking down. "He...was."

Nate looked around the room, clearly confused, then shrugged. "So, Lailah, when are we going travelling again?" He nodded. "I agree. Zaveid, Edna, are you coming, too?" More nodding. "Mikleo, did you want to come, too? You still have the shepherd's pact, ri—oh, really, you don't? What? Of course Sorey can come! It'd be nice to have—no! That's not—okay. Okay, I get it. Fine.

"Sorey, did you want to come?"

He shook his head wordlessly. No, he did not think he could hold onto himself in...in a place like that.

"Huh? Uh, okay, okay. Fine. I get it. You're his sub-lord. Go with him. Nobody's gonna force you, sheesh..."

He was only getting half the conversation, but Sorey smiled anyway. Mikleo...

"We can still explore ruins, right?" he said softly.

"Hey says sure. Now, how about we head to my place for something to eat?"

Without any better options—he was broke—Sorey followed in silence. Ahead of him, Nate talked animatedly with...someone. At his side walked Mikleo. Oh, he couldn't see or hear him...but he knew. That was all that mattered.

Well, no it wasn't, but it would have to do.

They made it to the Shepherd's Manor, apparently that was something Hyland had started keeping over two hundred years ago, and settled in. It seemed that there were people here to keep the place clean, cook, do laundry...it was beyond his ability to comprehend. He supposed the shepherd's lifestyle was busy, though. It might have been handy, to have help like this on his own journey.

His mind was wandering. Watching Nate converse animatedly with his friends, friends he could no longer see, twisted at his heart, and he found himself desperate to think about anything else.

"Dinner will be ready soon," Nate said. It took Sorey a moment to tune back in, but he nodded once he did. "We can just hang out in here until then."

 _In here_ turned out to be a literal library. Walls, upon walls of books, shelves sagging under the weight of them. Sorey stared around in wonder.

"Stuffy ol' place, isn't it?"

Sorey turned to Nate, utterly incredulous. "It's amazing! You must have the entire history of Glenwood in here! Is this—the Asgardian Empire! And this—!" He trailed off. It wasn't the same without Mikleo matching his enthusiasm.

"You like this stuff? Man, weird," Nate said, grinning, "but okay."

A book floated down off the shelf, and Sorey watched curiously as it was deposited next to him.

"Mikleo looks embarrassed, but he thinks you should read that."

Sorey only had to read the name of the author to break out into a large grin. "Mikleo, you wrote this? That's so cool! What's it about?" He was already cracking it open, not even pausing to read the title.

Dropping down into a nearby chair, he began to read. Distantly, he heard Nate make a comment, but he was oblivious to the words.

A book. By _Mikleo_!

* * *

Sorey spent the entire evening reading, barely even stopping to eat. Mikleo stuck by him the whole time, even long after the others had retired and they were reading by lantern light.

Sorey talked, a lot, once the others were gone. He went over passages from the book he liked, reminisced over stories the book brought to mind, and praised the prose. Mikleo suspected he overdid it a bit, but it was nice to hear that honest excitement.

"You really wrote a book about our adventures..." Sorey sounded so happy about that. "That's so cool, Mikleo."

Mikleo smiled. He had worked on it for years, but Sorey's excitement was more than worth it. He just wished he could show his friend all the others he'd written for him.

"We should get some sleep," his friend noted, then, setting aside the book. Mikleo stood to follow him. A room had been set aside for each of them, but Mikleo did not bother with his, instead choosing to remain with Sorey. There was nowhere else he belonged.

Sorey made room in the bed, as he always did, and Mikleo climbed in. As he always did. They slept beside one another, physically close, but centuries apart.

Late into the night, Sorey jerked awake with a yell. Jerked awake himself, Mikleo sat up, reaching for him frantically.

"Mikleo! Mikleo, where are you! Mikleo, please..."

Sorey was crying out in fear, almost in panic, his arms flailing uselessly, even passing through the seraph several times. Mikleo reached back, but to no avail. They couldn't touch.

The door burst open, Nate nearly falling inside. Behind him were the rest of the seraphim, but Mikleo only had eyes for Sorey.

He had no idea what had triggered the night terror, Sorey had never been prone to such things before, but with all of the stress he had been under lately, it wasn't hard to imagine what might be the cause.

"Mikleo, please, I need you..."

Mikleo felt a stab of helpless pity, followed by a stab of anger. How was this fair? How that this _right_? Sorey deserved better!

"Hey, hey, it's okay. You're, uh, okay..."

Mikleo shoved Nate away. He wasn't helping. He reached for Sorey, desperate to be there for him. Frantic. He had to do this—!

Nothing. Nothing at all. Sorey's resonance was gone. It was completely...useless. He let out a frustrated growl and tried again, Sorey's desperate cries ringing in his ears, mixing with calls from the other seraphim, and indignant squawking from Nate.

None of that mattered _except_ Sorey.

He tried, yet again, to get to Sorey, only to be stopped by a tight grip on his shoulder. Turning, he growled at his oppressor.

"Zaveid...!"

"You need to get out of here."

"Sorey—!"

"Will be fine. You need to leave, Mikky. You need to distance yourself from this."

"I can't just leave him!"

"Mikleo, he's right," Lailah said calmly. "You're too involved. You need to step out."

"I can't—!"

Before he could protest more, Zaveid picked him up and carried him out, heedless of his struggles.

"...Sorey! Sorey!"

His friend did not hear him.

* * *

Sorey felt like shit. He had finally awoken fully last night, in a cold sweat and with a pounding heart and head. He had not slept a wink after that. Somehow...somehow he had known Mikleo was gone from the room, and that felt wrong. Mikleo was probably back by now, he knew, but he could. Not. Tell.

As morning rolled around, he got up and wandered the mansion, and then the library. He scanned the shelves desperately, hoping there was something that could help him fix this...

Eventually, Nate's butler found him, informing him that the others were leaving, but that he was welcome to stay. He nodded, deciding it was only polite to see the others off. Waving for Mikleo to follow, he thanked the butler and headed downstairs.

"Sorey! You came!"

"Uh, yeah." He rubbed his head. "Sorry about the trouble last night, by the way. Didn't mean to cause a commotion."

"Don't worry about it. Bad dreams happen," Nate said reassuringly.

"Where are you guys headed?" he asked, eager to change the subject.

"Rolance. Pendrago is our first stop."

"Have a safe trip. You too, Lailah, Edna, Zaveid. I'll miss you."

"We'll be fine. You're sure you don't want to come? You too, Mikleo."

Sorey shook his head. "We're going to look for a way to fix my resonance. Right, Mikleo?" He didn't need to see the nod to know it was there.

"...okay. Well. Good luck. You can stay here as much, and as often, as you like."

"Thanks, Nate. We'll take you up on that for a bit."

"Well, okay. The others all want me to give you their best wishes. Good luck."

"You too. Stay safe."

Sorey watched while they headed down the steps, then turned and headed back inside. They had a lot of reading to do.

* * *

They spent months searching for the answer, chasing leads in books older than Lailah. Rumours, legends, myths...they followed it all. Mikleo wrote him notes when they could, but when they were deep in some ruin nobody had even known existed, Sorey often felt completely alone.

They were deep underground this time, seeking a mural that was supposed to explain the origins of resonance, and how it spread through the population. He hoped that this lead, at least, would turn up...something. None of the others had.

He held up the light he had brought with him, using it to illuminate the pathway ahead of him—the seraphic artes that lent light to so many of these ancient passageways no longer worked for him. Squinting, he moved to press his shoulder against the door, pushing it open and walking inside.

It was a large, empty chamber, the walls of which were lost in darkness. Stepping further in, he slowly turned a circle, lantern held aloft. Ragged stone made up the floor, crumbling with age. It crackled under his boot as he moved, tripping him up slightly. He caught himself quickly, and strode inwards.

A rock clattered beside him, and Sorey froze. He could no longer see hellions—Maotelus' blessing did not get rid of all of them, especially here in the bowels of the world, so he had to rely on Mikleo. They had worked out signals as best they could, and he backed away in response to this one. He couldn't see anything yet, but he drew his sword, backing up towards the entrance warily.

* * *

Mikleo had sensed it some ways back, but it was a lot harder to pinpoint exactly where a hellion was without Sorey's and Lailah's blessing. As soon as they stumbled across it, he was ready, however. Using a rock he'd grabbed off the floor, Mikleo threw it near Sorey's feet, signalling that it was in front of him. As they had worked out, Sorey backed up.

He couldn't purify hellions any longer, he had no interest in being connected to a new shepherd, but he could still fight them. Holding out his left hand, his staff materialised and dropped into it. Clutching it, he readied his stance, eyes darting around to find the hellion's exact location. It was in this room, he was certain of that, though he had not yet caught sight of it.

...and there is was, a scaled, long body, with a thick tail and overgrown teeth. It cast sightless eyes around the room, and tilted its head back, nostrils twitching. He suspected it has been some sort of rodent, alone down in the dark, and was perfectly tuned to hunting without using its sight.

He had to get it off of Sorey. Without even considering possible consequences to himself, he whacked his staff off the wall. The rodent's head immediately swung towards him, and then it was scurrying forward, tail dragging through the dirt.

A glance to Sorey confirmed that his friend had spotted the creature. Mikleo did not know what it looked like to him, but so long as Sorey had identified it, that was what mattered. That way, Sorey could stay away while he fought.

And fight Mikleo did. He threw spells at the creature, warping the floor and chilling the air. Icy rain fell down, forcing the hellion back. He had spotted a place where the floor had collapsed some distance away, and if he could just push it into the hole then they could run away.

He jumped a sweep of its tail, and blocked its follow-up lunge using the haft of his mother's staff. Sharp teeth struggled, and failed, to find purchase in the enchanted wood. He thrust forward, pushing it closer to the edge. Not far now...

"Mikleo!"

Sorey's terrified cry snapped Mikleo's head around. The human was backing away from two more of the creatures, his sword held steady, gaze even...but they both knew he could not fight like this.

Mikleo abandoned his fight, lunging for the beasts attacking Sorey. His _Aqua Serpent_ caught the nearest one in a rush of water. The second hellion, however, was unscathed. It smacked Sorey across the chest, throwing him towards the pit.

With an enraged cry, and with panic suddenly bubbling his throat, Mikleo lunged forward, braining the first hellion, and smacking another in the throat. Almost simultaneously, he knocked the first one back with a sweep of water.

"Mikleo!"

The third hellion had snuck behind him, and was poised to strike at Sorey. The human had the presence of mind to dodge, rolling away from the strike...and going straight into the pit.

"A-ah, Mikleo!"

Mikleo watched in horror as desperate fingers scratched at the broken floor, groping for a purchase. The old floor crumbled under his fingers, however, leaving him slipping farther down.

A torrent of frantically-conjured ice pushed all of the hellions back, leaving Mikleo space to run in, desperate fingers reaching for Sorey's wrist—

—and grabbing air. Nothing. He could do nothing as Sorey slipped another few centimetres.

"Mikleo...!" Sorey was scrambling, desperate. "Mikleo please...it's okay. I know you're trying," he said, hoarse.

Mikleo turned, forcing the hellions back for another moment. I'm sorry I dragged you into this, I just...I just wanted to see you one more time. I'm so sorry."

He could hear the tears and regret in Sorey's voice. Mikleo's heart rose in his throat, pounding and choking him. The incantations for his spells were forced out around the lump in his throat, and Mikleo could feel his body shaking. If he could just get a second to think!

"I'm sorry, Mikleo. I'm sorry I can't help you. Run. Please. Don't you...don't you die here, too..."

The seraph let out a howl of pained rage. The fear in Sorey's voice was his undoing, and he felt the months of wandering, wishing for anything to be different, boil over. He unleashed a massive torrent of water, washing the hellions back towards the far wall, and gaining him some space.

"Sorey!"

"I'm sorry, Mikleo. I just...just wish I could see you once more..."

With a feral snarl, Mikleo lunged forward, meeting the first hellion to get up. Throwing aside his staff, he threw himself at it, heedless of anything else except the raw _need_ to save Sorey.

* * *

The dust settled, and just like that, the hellions were gone. More importantly, however, was the fact that Sorey could once again see Mikleo. And he was stunning. Mikleo lifted him out of the hole, and Sorey threw himself forward, wrapping his arms around his friend.

Finally...

* * *

"Do we really have to go all the way to Elysia?" Nate complained, sitting down on a rock and stripping off one boots to rub a sore foot.

"You don't have to come. Edna and I can go alone," Zaveid offered, drawing a scoff from the earth seraph.

"Speak for yourself. You can go alone."

Lailah glanced at them, a slight frown on her lips. "We need to find Mikleo and Sorey. Elysia is most likely where they are, or to at least have word of them."

Edna agreed. If there was anywhere to find those two wanderers, Elysia was the right place to start.

"Relax, Junior Shep," Zaveid muttered. "It's not much further."

It had been nearly a year since they had heard from Sorey and Mikleo, so the group had agreed it was well passed time to get back in touch with them. Just to check in. They made the long trek, all the way from Ladylake to Elysia.

They arrived just before dusk. They were greeted cheerfully by the villagers, and quickly ushered inside, where a seraph Edna did not know hurried to put together a pot of stew for their human companion.

"Kyme, I had hoped you might have news of Mikleo and Sorey."

The seraph's brow furrowed. "...you haven't heard?"

Next to Edna, Zaveid swore under his breath. Using her umbrella to prod at the wind seraph, Edna muttered, "You know something."

"I don't know for sure...but something on the wind has felt wrong, ever since we got here."

A rare, serious tone. Whatever it was, Zaveid was worried by it. Expression flat, Edna turned back to the conversation.

"...I think it might be easier if you see it for yourself."

Lailah looked worried, staring towards the door. "Camlann, you said?"

"Yes. Sorey and Mikleo went there. They haven't left since going in."

Lailah took a deep breath, then nodded. "Very well. We will set out first thing in the morning."

"Okay, just stay safe and, whatever you do, find Sorey before looking for Mikleo."

"...I understand. Thank you, Kyme."

Dinner was a tense affair, nobody saying much while Nate had his meal. That night, while the shepherd slept, Edna beckoned Zaveid to follow her and slipped away.

"Tell me more," she said, back to him as she gazed out over the cliffside.

"Somethin' here," was the infuriatingly vague answer. "It makes me worried about how those two are doing."

"Something...like what?" Edna would not show it, but she was worried. They both knew how well Mikleo and Sorey had handled Sorey's...condition. If things had gotten worse, it could spell disaster.

"I'd rather not say."

"I killed my own brother," she said flatly. "Whatever you think to shield me from, just stop."

Zaveid sighed. "It's not malevolence," he said after a moment. "Nothing like that. Just...pain. There's pain on the wind."

"...do you think Meebo has managed to get them into trouble?" she ventured after a long moment.

"I hope not."

* * *

They set off first thing the following morning. Edna stuck to the back, watching Nate as he raced ahead, taking in everything. They had taken him to Elysia before, but never beyond that, and now his previous reluctance was gone, replaced with eagerness to see the one area he had been kept out of for his entire life.

Camlann was beautiful. Though the town itself was all but gone, given back to the wild, the wilderness had its own rugged charm. Old foundations were covered in moss, and tall trees sprouted through the hearts of what had once been homes. It was picturesque.

And Sorey, armed with a bow, stalked a small buck. He looked...dirty, but otherwise normal, much to Edna's relief. Perhaps Mikleo and Sorey had found their answer after all, and there was nothing to worry about. The sky was clear, the air fresh...it was good. It all felt...good, to Edna. There was no malevolence, much to everyone's relief, especially after Kyme's warning.

Zaveid was frowning, however.

"Sorey! Hey, Sorey!" Nate called for them, getting the other human's attention.

Setting the weapon down, Sorey looked over, grinning brightly. "Nate! Hey! Is everyone else with you?"

The young shepherd nodded.

"Hi Lailah! Edna! Zaveid! Thanks for visiting!" Sorey yelled, bounding over to meet them.

"Lailah wants me to ask where Mikleo is."

"Oh, he's around. One sec." Raising his fingers to his lips, Sorey let out a sharp whistle, one that was greeted by a bestial roar moments later, the air filling with the sound of beating wings.

Edna's heart dropped into her stomach.

"Shit."

Edna's thoughts echoed Zaveid's sentiment. She looked around at the varying levels of dismay, and fear, on the faces of her companions. A moment later, he came into view.

The dragon was...well, stunning, if Edna was completely honest. Ivory white scales glittered in the sun, almost blindingly. The membrane of his wings and his smooth underbelly were a pale blue. Spikes of pure white lined his neck and dotted his jawline.

He swooped closer, and Edna caught sight of one, violet eye. Unusual, she noted subconsciously.

Just in front of her, Nate was struggling to draw his sword in shaking hands. The poor boy had never been in a real fight, and his nerves were clearly getting the better of him now as he nearly dropped his sword in the process of unsheathing it.

Shing!

Edna looked forward at the sound, to where Sorey had smoothly drawn his own blade and was levelling it easily at Nate. The young shepherd looked fit to wet himself.

"Put. It. Away."

"Th-that's a dragon!"

It landed with a thud, sending a gust of warm wind through the group that mussed hair and ruffled clothing. It hunkered down behind Sorey, fixing them all with a fierce gaze.

"It's Mikleo," Sorey insisted, still not sheathing his blade.

"Let's hear them out, Nate," Lailah said, clearly desperate to diffuse the situation. They had not come prepared for a dragon—a dragon and Sorey, she amended, because the other human was making it very clear which side he was on. They would die if this came to a head, and Lailah had to know that. Nate was too green when it came to actual combat.

"I-it's...!"

Calmly, Edna walked up and took his blade. It was easy, given how badly he was shaking. "Yes, it's a dragon. Now let's not piss it off."

With the sword gone, Sorey sheathed his own, turning to where the dragon—that thing was not Meebo—and patting its snout. "Were you taking a nap in the sun again?"

It crooned in response, puffing cool mist over Sorey. Shaking drops of water out of his hair, Sorey grinned. "The others came to visit."

It was the damnedest, strangest thing. Dragons did not remember anything about their past lives. They were monsters whose only resemblance to their seraph selves was their elements. Yet here was...this one, placid as a puppy for Sorey. It was almost believable that Mikleo was still in there.

Almost.

"I'm sorry we just...disappeared," Sorey was saying, "but I thought it would be better if we just stayed away from humans and seraphim. They wouldn't understand, and that's not their fault, but I don't want anyone to get hurt."

Around her, Edna noted that the tension in the group had faded very little, and one glance to the dragon confirmed why. Its eyes were levelled on them, and it was hunched over Sorey protectively, like it would attack on any provocation.

Worst of all, Nate was the only one who could talk to Sorey, and the young shepherd was...useless. Utterly useless.

"Mikleo?" Lailah tried tentatively. "Are you in there?"

The dragon growled, and Sorey reached up, laying a hand on one spine. "They're friends."

The dragon huffed, then lunged a short distance forward with a roar. The group jumped back, weapons appearing in every hand. With a tight grasp on her own umbrella, Edna scowled. "This is crazy. They're both off the deep end."

"...we need to put him down," Zaveid said firmly.

"You saw Sorey. We attack the dragon, we attack him, too," Edna grumbled.

"...I agree with Edna," Lailah said. "Perhaps it would be best if we left."

"Leave? Just leave a dragon there?" Zaveid demanded.

"Sorey clearly has him under control. If...anything happens, we can...come back." Lailah's reluctance was obvious.

"Anything happens? Like Sorey drops dead?" Edna's comment was met with silence. "Fine, let's go. We can come put Meebo down after—because we are going to have to."

Her flat statement was met with silence. They all knew she was right, though. It was abundantly clear that while Sorey had that dragon under control, it had no recognition of anyone else.

"Nate...tell him we're leaving, please," Lailah asked.

"U-uh. We're...going to go. You're, uh, friend seems upset."

"Huh? Oh, he's fine. But okay. Take care, and stop by once in a while? Mikleo isn't the best conversationalist anymore."

"Right," Edna muttered, turning to leave. "Just what I always wanted, another dragon."

The others followed, disappearing back into the ruins in silence. One day they would come back here. On that day, Mikleo would fully die, and they all knew that. For now, though, they would leave Sorey to whatever twisted happiness he had found.

Glancing back, Edna sighed. "Bye, Sorey. You were an okay shepherd," she murmured.

"Edna? You coming?" Nate called.

Scoffing, she turned back. "Impatient."

A hand caught her arm, and annoyed, Edna wrenched it free. "What does the pervert want?" she deadpanned.

"...you okay?" Zaveid asked, expression serious.

"Fine. Peachy. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because our friend is cursed to certain death? Because it's happening all over again on you? I promised Eizen I'd watch out for you. Just keeping my promise."

Edna sighed, annoyed. "Of course it isn't okay," she muttered. "But it is what it is. Let's leave it at that."

"...right. Okay."

"It's just Meebo." She didn't mean that.

Lailah stepped up. "We should have kept a better eye on them. We all know water is the most easily tainted element."

"Yeah? Well, too late now. We'll just have to clean up later. Zaveid, keep an eye on things. If there's any hint of malevolence, we move in."

"Okay. Most dragons are pretty stationary, and they're well out of the way. We should be able to deal with it, when the time comes."

That wasn't something any of them wanted to do...but they didn't have much of a choice. With grim faces and grimmer hearts, they walked away, leaving Mikleo and Sorey behind.

* * *

 **72 Years Later**

"Edna, it's time to go."

She watched Zaveid for a long moment. After the fall of Mikleo and Sorey, the three of them had more-or-less parted, unable to even pretend at being a united front. It had been one thing when Sorey and Mikleo were coming back. Now...

"Where is Lailah?" she asked flatly, collecting her weapons and armour. Lailah was the only one of them who had been able to maintain any presence in human cities; she was the only one still doing their _job_.

"I went to her first. She's on her way already."

Well, that was that, then. Edna hefted her weapon and turned to Zaveid. "Let's go."

The trip from Rayfalke to Camlann was not a terribly long one, and with no humans to slow them, they moved swiftly, as only seraphim can. A pity, Edna thought. She would never admit it, but she liked the relaxed pace of needing to stop to eat and sleep. But perhaps it was for the best. The last thing she needed was more time to think. At least on the move, she could focus on walking.

They made it in three days, an unimaginable pace for humans, but a respectable one for an earth seraph. It was just inside the forest, where a domain of malevolence was creeping in, that they met Lailah...and the new shepherd.

"It's too late," was all Lailah said, head hanging.

"Too late for what?" Zaveid asked, arms folded.

"...Elysia."

That gave everyone pause. Edna collected herself first, swinging her umbrella to her shoulder, gaze hard. "I think you better tell us everything."

"Zaveid was right, Sorey's passed. I had hoped we had a few days to get here before Mikleo started moving, but..."

"But he got to Elysia," Edna said, flatly.

"The survivors are heading to LadyLake," the shepherd, Asra, supplied helpfully.

Survivors. That was a heavy word, with heavier implications.

"Okay, let's get these pacts renewed and go," Zaveid said, voice serious.

Zaveid went first, citing his oath, and then sharing his true name with Asra while Edna took hers. The new seraph seemed nice enough. Edna hoped the girl had what it took, because otherwise she was in way over her head with this one.

By mutual, unspoken agreement, they headed in. The domain deepened as they walked; the sheer force of it was sickening. Despite Maotelus' presence, they would all have fallen in minutes without the protection of the new shepherd. It seemed this Asra was made out of sterner stuff than Nate had been.

"You ready for this, baby shepherd?" Edna asked as they neared the border.

"Huh? Me?"

"No, that rock over there."

"Huh?"

"Oh great, a real bright one, this."

"What Edna is trying to say," Zaveid chimed in, "is that she's worried you're not prepared for what's coming."

"Oh..." Asra muttered. "Well, I've never fought a dragon before, but I was top of my class in swordplay."

"Of course you've never fought a dragon. There haven't _been_ dragons in four hundred years. That's not what I'm worried about, though. You realise the severity of this, right? Who we're killing?"

"...I've never met him."

"Wrong attitude," Zaveid said flatly. "I don't want someone along who doesn't get it."

"I explained it," Lailah said simply, head up and eyes straight ahead. "There won't be an issue."

"Fine. Let's just do this. Edna?"

She didn't respond, just walked ahead. They had arrived.

The domain was so thick it was actually stifling. The Elysia pillar lay in ruins, the top blasted off and covered in a thick layer of ice. They walked forward carefully, and...there it was.

Mikleo looked similar to how Edna remembered him, save for one detail. Those eyes, once a calm, placid violet, were replaced by menacing, red orbs. The dragon rose, scales rustling, and a low rumble sounded deep in his throat as he stalked forward, over the ruins of his own hometown.

Massive wings spread, an ivory head tipped back, and an earth-shattering roar erupted.

...it sounded mournful, if Edna was honest.

"Oh, Meebo, how could this happen?" she whispered, staring at the feral beast. She had asked the same of Eizen, and just like then, she received no answer.

"Let's go," Zaveid said, stepping forward. Edna followed.

* * *

For centuries therein after, the bones of the world's last dragon bleached in the sun, dominating the ruins of Elysia, the Village of Seraphim. Thrust into the ground next to the massive maw was a single, ceremonial blade. Draped over its hilt lay an ancient glove, bearing the mark of the shepherd. The feathers at its wrist rustled gently in the breeze, untouched by the timeless wind.

* * *

 _I worked like hell on this thing. I will tentatively say that I am proud of it, but honestly I feel so burnt out on it that it's hard to say for sure. XD; I took some artistic licence here, and frankly I am okay with that. I wanted to set a mood...and I tried my best to do so. I don't think it would be easy to actually dragonify Mikky, but I hope I made it a bit believable._

 _Please, let me know if you like it! Also, let me know if you hate anything, too. I want to improve._

 _Thanks for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2

_This story now has a part two, containing a few unused scenes and the epilogue that I've had in mind all along. However, there is one thing I want to emphasise: don't read it if you're satisfied with this ending. Part two changes the mood, introduces a few new concepts, and is in general...not the same tone. I didn't put these scenes into the original fic for a reason, let's put it that way. I also don't recommend reading part two immediately after finishing the main fic...but it's up to you, of course. Do as you wish. :)_

* * *

Sorey was deeply engrossed in the novel Mikleo had written—and _dedicated_ to him!—when a sheet of paper landed atop the book. Momentarily startled, he glanced up and saw nothing. Looking back down, at the paper this time, he found himself smiling goofily. That was Mikleo's handwriting!

 _How are you feeling this morning?_

He hesitated, smile weakening as it slipped from his lips. "...fine. I mean, I wish I could see you, but you're here and that's what matters."

 _And the dream last night? What was that about?_

Sorey visibly flinched, unable to hide the action. "It's, uh, well..." Silence. Mikleo was waiting on him. "I don't really remember that well?" He didn't want to lie to Mikleo, but dragging that up now...

 _You're the worst liar I've ever met, Sorey._

He chuckled dryly. "Sorry, Mikleo, I just...it was Gramps," he admitted quietly. He could not see Mikleo, but he could imagine his friend's distress at that admission. "We...we killed him, Mikleo, we-"

The paper was snatched, and Sorey watched as a pen, held by an invisible hand, scribbled across the page.

 _That was not our fault, Sorey! Not mine, or yours. It was Heldalf's._

"...you saw him too," he said softly. "And whoever...was really at fault, he's dead, and our actions had a part in that." Looking down, he grasped the fabric of his pants with tense fingers. "It was...I know it was a long time ago for you, Mikleo," and his friend had therefore had a long time to come to terms with it, and to mourn, "but it was just a few days ago to me. I remember it so clearly..." Gramps' face in Heldalf's palm, twisted into an expression of pure agony.

 _You're right_ , Mikleo wrote after a short wait, _it...took me a long time, too. Whatever happens, and whatever you need, I'm here for you, Sorey._

"Thanks, Mikleo," he said softly, ashamed of the way his voice broke. "It's...hard to realise how many people are gone. Rose, Alisha, Sergei, all the humans we helped and talked to and shopped from and stayed with-" His voice broke further, and he found himself wiping his eyes. "I know...I...had to do it," he muttered, "but I lost everything because I did.

"Even you. And everyone else. Mikleo, I'm lonely," he choked out. Now that he had started talking, he found it difficult to stop. "I need to be strong. I...I'm famous now. I should be happy. The world we wanted is a reality. Humans and seraphim can see one another, talk to one another, we can travel without fighting hellions all day. Mikleo, it's all _good_ , so why can't I be _happy_ about it?"

It felt like an eternity, waiting for Mikleo to reply, but eventually he did, _You have every right to enjoy the world you built, but you can still mourn. A lot has happened, and it's a lot to take in. No matter what, I'll be here.  
_  
"Thank you, Mikleo," he replied hoarsely. "Thank you." Reaching up, he wiped at the tears leaking down his face, but more simply replaced them. Despite knowing that Mikleo would never leave him, it helped to hear it from the seraph himself, the words a comfort in his grief.

Eventually, he gave up on trying to resist the tears. It was only Mikleo to see, anyway, so he set the book aside and let himself grieve. He had cried often since awakening, alone in his despair, but those had always been for himself. This time, he cried for all those he had truly lost.

* * *

Everything looked...different. He didn't understand how he knew it was different, because he didn't know anything else, but it was.

The room was dark, damp, cool. He didn't know what it was, but he needed to get out. This wasn't right, and neither was that...smell.

A blow struck him, making him snarl in rage. With a swipe of one talon, he destroyed the beasts attacking him. Turning at a noise behind him, he saw...light. So different. So pure. He wanted to protect it. Keep it with him. With a gentle touch, he lifted it from the pit it was in and brought it close.

It spoke, its voice a soft hum to his ears. He returned the words with a low rumble deep in his throat. That seemed to please the light, who spoke more, prompting him to hum back.

Eventually, they tired of the exchanged, and he picked up the light, before heading straight up and blasting a hole in the ceiling. Together, they broke free and soared east, his wings taking them wherever the light wished. So long as he had the light...he would be happy.

He would keep the light safe.

* * *

One morning, many seasons later, the light was gone. He could not explain where it had gone, or why he felt the deep-seated grief he did at its loss, but there it was. He sought its source, the aged body of a human. Was it those fingers that had touched him so gently? Rubbed his scales clean, scratched the places he could not reach, tended his wounds...

The grief went deep, roiling in his very core. Shaking his head, he felt the spines along his jaw line stand up as he threw back his head and roared his grief at the heavens. Spreading his wings, he reared back on his hind legs, baying his sorrows over and over again.

He dropped back to all fours, wings snapping back against his side. Now silent, he slunk over to the body, curling around it almost protectively. He did not understand, but this one human had to be the source of the light...the light that had kept the red mist at bay. The grief that he felt at his death was...incomprehensible.

He lay like that for hours, protecting the body where once he had protected the living light itself. Eventually, he roused. His depression fading behind a drive to _do_ something. Snatching the body in one talon, he launched himself into the sky, flapping frantically as he flew north.

The land rolled by, verdant fields eventually giving way to roiling waters. He did not even slow as the land disappeared and the ocean took over, its endless expanse dwarfing even his own gargantuan size. Never before had he felt so small.

For over a day he flew, not even feeling the exhaustion in his strained wings. He knew what he had to do—though he did not know _how_ he knew—and nothing would stop him until he had done so.

He hit land once more, though instead of green hills, brown tundra passed by beneath him for many miles, until, eventually, the land rose up to meet him. He rose higher, clearing the peaks with ease. As he went higher still, the air chilled, and snow began to top the mountains.

It was many leagues in that he finally pulled up, landing atop the tallest mountain he could find. Flapping his stiff, cold wings, he roamed the cliff face, seeking purchase in the icy stone. Finding a crack in the stone, he dug his claws in and _tore_. The rock broke away, and he continued, using his icy breath and talons to rip open the mountain.

He enlarged the crack until it was large enough to hold the body. Once complete, he gently pressed the man inside, using one talon and his snout. With his muzzle pressed to the chest, he slowly breathed out through flared nostrils, icy-cold mist escaping him.

It froze, filling the crack in perfect, unblemished ice, clear as the finest glass. Gradually, he withdrew as the crack filled, the ice holding the body in place...and preserving it, along with a touch of magic he no longer entirely understood.

When he was done, he sat back, violet eyes taking in his work. The body before him looked...peaceful, as though he were only sleeping. One final time, he roared his agony to the sky, then silently lay down before the tomb, eyes drifting shut.

When he awoke, he barely spared his handiwork a glance. The red mist had sunk down further in his vision, and he allowed it. Spreading his wings, he launched into the sky and soared away.

The last of his instincts brought him to a village. Modelled after those of humans, it was instead inhabited by seraphim. He swooped in, landing on a rush of wind and cries of alarm.

His head swivelled side to side, massive eyes taking in the scene as alarmed seraphim darted about. For a moment, the last spark of himself that burned within flared to life, and for an instant, he felt peace. Then it fizzled out, a thick, red fog settled over his mind...and he knew no more.

In a blind fury, he attacked.

* * *

The village lay empty, save for the massive dragon presiding over it. As his grandfather had before him, he shouldered the burden of being Elysia's guardian; as his mother before him, he shouldered the burden of protector of the road to Camlann. To that end, he had come full circle, fulfilling the roles of his predecessors.

Mikleo ruled Elysia, now.

 **/Epilogue\**

"You can't be serious. Luz, you're just a _human_! Those mountains..."

Luzlo rolled his eyes, sitting back in his chair and propping his feet up on the chair next to him. "I've explored all there is to see around here. Glenwood doesn't have any new surprises."

His companion, and long time best friend, rolled her eyes right back at him. "You're not even thirty yet. There's plenty left to see. You can complain when you're three hundred and still on Glenwood."

"Just a reminder, Lirah, but I'm a _human_. We can't all be six hundred years old."

She sniffed, tossing her pale, green hair over one shoulder. "I'm barely over five. And that's not the point. Those mountains aren't safe for a single human travelling alone. Besides, how will you even afford it?"

"You're the one who's always saying how much easier things are with modern technology. I just hop on one of those fast boats and head north."

"That doesn't get you up a mountain. Alone. Without magic. You could freeze to death, or fall, or..."

"So come with me."

"You know I have work—we can't all be freeloading spelunkers, you know." Despite the harshness of her words, there was a teasing twinkle to her green eyes that took the sting out of them.

"Fine," he shrugged, "I'll adventure all by myself, I guess..."

"Luz..."

"Look, I know you're worried," he said seriously, tugging at a strand of his own, platinum blond hair, violet eyes unable to meet hers, "but there's something—I can't explain it, but I _need_ to go there. I've always wanted to see the mountains, and now just feels like the right time. I promise, after I get home, I'll settle down. Get a decent job. But right now..."

She sighed, her worry and frustration evident on her youthful face. "Fine, fine. Just...promise me you'll come home. You humans are so...squishy."

He snorted wryly. "Fine, fine. And you try not to break your back, old lady."

"I told you, I'm not even six hundred—"

"Right, right. So you only _just_ missed living through the last Age of Chaos."

"I don't even remember a time when humans and Seraphim couldn't communicate."

"Right, okay. Fine. Look, I should go; I don't want to miss my boat. I'll see you when I get back, okay?" he said, standing and shouldering his bag. It was a convenient travel pack that carried his food and bedding, as well as his normal climbing kit. Heavy, but effective.

She stood too, tugging him into a hug. "I'll see you when you get home."

"You better be here when I get back. You wind seraphim and your wandering..."

She pulled back, smiling at him. "I can wait a few months, even a year if I have to."

"Good. I'll see you then." Fully disengaging from the hug, he turned away and left the tavern, heading for the docks.

* * *

The mountains were everything he had ever dreamt of. They towered around him, craggy rock faces, and sheer cliff sides that dropped into hidden gullies. The air was cold and thin, but unimaginably fresh. Snow capped the highest peaks, resting well above the tree line.

With nothing to cut the wind, Luzlo shivered as it gusted passed him, ruffling the fur lining his hood and tugging at his scarf. Someone had advised that he bring goggles for this trip, and he found himself glad he had done so as the biting wind would be stinging his eyes to tears.

Pausing, he surveyed the land as he rubbed his hands to warm them. The sun was just going down, and he had learned very early on not to carry on in the dark. Before dusk was the time to make camp, and not a minute later.

A sheltered alcove caught his eye a short ways up the mountain. Adjusting his pack on his back, he gripped his ice pick and set off for it. It would be a bit of a tricky climb, but he should be able to make it—

The rock crumbled, and he lost his balance. Letting out a cry of alarm, Luzro saw his meagre twenty-eight years pass before his eyes as he slid back, footing going next, and then he was really falling.

In a blur of fiery red, a hand darted out and caught his wrist, stabilising him at the last possible moment. Eyes wide, he breathed heavily as his gaze met that of his rescuer. Beautiful green eyes stared down at him, a concerned smile wrinkling the man's—seraph's, for that was certainly what he was—brow.

"That was close, huh?"

"Yeah, uh...thanks," Luzlo said sheepishly, righting himself and then sinking to his butt on the cold ground, when his legs proved too shaky to support him. Letting out a tense breath, he closed his eyes and willed his thundering heart to still. When he finally reopened them, it was to the stranger's inquisitive gaze.

"Thank you...?"

"You're welcome!" the seraph said in a refreshingly cheery manner. Though he didn't offer up a name, Luzlo noted. Well, who was he to ask?

"My name is Luzlo," he said, offering up his hand for a proper shake.

"Nice to meet you, Luzlo! What's a human doing up here?"

He shrugged. "I like exploring. What about you? I can see a wind seraph up here, but a fire seraph?—you are a fire seraph...?"

His new friend shrugged, scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck. "I am a fire seraph, but, uh, well, funny thing there...I actually have no idea why I'm here. I just sorta woke up in the mountains. I wandered around for a bit, then I stumbled across you. Pretty lucky for you, I guess."

Luzlo's brows raised. "Wait...a seraph with no memory...? Maybe you were a human who was climbing up here and died, then was reborn as a seraph! That happens sometimes. Come on, can you show me where you woke up?" he asked, not bothering to hide his enthusiasm. He'd heard of the process, but never experienced it in any way, not even vicariously. "We might even find a hint as to your identity."

"I...guess that's possible," the seraph said, his uncertainty bleeding into his words. Of course. Luzlo realised he had been a touch callous, and blushed faintly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to sound...excited about your possible death. We don't have to investigate if you don't want to."

"No, I think it's a good idea. It's just...it's a real possibility, I guess. It's a lot to take in."

"Well, we can wait until morning. It'll be dark soon, and travelling after dark..."

The stranger chuckled, toying with a lock of burnt auburn hair. "I mean, I am a fire seraph, but I can see why it would be nerve-wracking for a little human..."

"H-hey! I'm not afraid, I just..."

"Already almost died once today? It's fine. Let's camp."

Luzlo dropped it. He could be overly competitive, he knew that, and this was definitely a time to rein that in and act like the mature adult he was _supposed_ to be.

"I was heading up there," he gestured, "looked like a good spot."

"Looks good to me, too. Race you up there."

Oh, it was _on_.

They made camp that night, sheltered snuggly into the alcove. For the first time in several nights, Luzlo enjoyed the comfort of a fire, magically conjured by his new friend. Lack of wood was no issue for a being of fire.

They chatted until Luzlo dozed off, and the following morning it was back to work scaling the mountain. It took longer than normal, with them needing to share Luzlo's climbing supplies, but the seraph proved efficient at finding his own way, also.

It took them the better part of the day to climb to a point where the seraph stopped them. Looking around, he finally stopped, then nodded. "This is it. That..."

Luzlo looked around. As far as mountains went, it didn't look much different than anywhere else, if a tad higher than most of the other peaks. Craggy rock face, bald stone, patches of ice and snow... The only thing off about it was several patches of long, thin gauges. They were weathered and packed with ice, but they looked like the claws of a massive beast.

Why did they turn his stomach?

"...this was a dragon," the seraph said slowly. "I know it was. I recognise those markings."

"It's old, though." The edges had smoothed, never mind being filled with ice.

"So probably not related to me."

"Unlikely, it's been nearly two hundred years since a dragon was spotted. Before that, it was four."

"Definitely not, then." He looked around. "I don't see anything else, though. I knew it was a long shot, anyway. I looked around when I woke up, but didn't find anything."

Luzlo shrugged. "Guess not—it's weird, though. How do you know what dragon markings look like? There weren't dragons in my great-grandparents' time, never mind the past few days..."

His new friend paused, clearly considering, then shrugged. "Maybe I studied dragons?"

"That...would be pretty cool, actually," Luzlo said slowly, voice gradually picking up energy. "There are a lot of rumours about who the last dragon was. The most pervasive even claim it was Mikleo, one of The Shepherd's companions. It's doubtful, obviously, but there's no denying that he hasn't been seen in centuries. Records say he was never one for the public eye, but he'd make occasional visits to the Lady of Ladylake, but about two hundred years ago, he vanished completely.

"Now, it's more likely...something else unfortunate happened to him, but a dragon? Impossible..." Luzlo trailed off, gaze shifting to where the seraph was staring vacantly into the distance. "But...I guess we have no real proof either way," he ventured more carefully. "This may be a sign of that last dragon. Maybe you were tracking it? You could be a dragon hunter! Or even a historian tracking the last dragon..."

Slowly, the seraph turned back. "Yeah...yeah, maybe. I bet we could use that to figure out what I was doing up here..."

"And who you are?" Luzlo ventured.

"...maybe. But honestly, I don't know if I want to do that. If I was up here alone, then there was probably a reason. I just...want to be who I am now. The past doesn't matter."

Luzlo stared at him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. He didn't understand, but his friend looked confused and uncertain, so he let it go for now.

"Did you...wanna come home with me?"

"I would, if it won't impose..."

"Not at all. I've been gone long enough."

"...thank you, Luzlo. It means a lot."

He returned the glamorous smile, trying to ignore the sudden increase in his heartrate. "Don't mention it—by the way, what should I call you?"

"...hm. I think...Sorey sounds right."

"Sorey? Like after The Shepherd?" It was a popular name. "Okay, Sorey. Let's go."

"To adventure!" Sorey yelled, prompting Luzlo to laugh.

"To adventure."

* * *

Zaveid emerged from behind a stone outcropping as the two old friends headed back down the mountain and vanished from sight. Turning to the large crack in the mountainside, one that had once been a tomb, but now lay empty, he chuckled wryly.

He had been watching the location for over a hundred years, ever since he had chanced upon it on a random flight through the mountains. Sorey's body, perfectly preserved in magic and ice, protected from time and the elements? Only one being could have done that. He had lain a spell of his own over the tomb, one to tell him if it was ever disturbed, and now...it had been.

For it seemed Maotelus had seen fit to grant the duo a second chance.

"You two better do it right this time," he muttered into the unhearing winds. With one last glance, he let the wind pick him up and rode it away, back to Edna, Lailah, and a new beginning.


End file.
